


i don't mind you comin' here (and wastin' all my time)

by gilligankane



Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [11]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, F/F, Gen, Mixtape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 09:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12814953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: “Are we going treasure hunting?”Waverly smiles wide enough that Nicole is afraid her face is going to break in half, the long way. “Can we?”Nicole nods eagerly. Treasure hunting. She used to hunt for buried treasure in her backyard. At Easter, her dad would hide eggs all over the place - in the back and out in the front, up in trees and under the car bumpers. She and Nathan would race to see who could collect the most eggs the quickest, and the winner got the extra slice of bacon at brunch. She looks at Wynonna excitedly. Finally, an adventure. Wynonna has been wanting an adventure. But here it is, and Wynonna is shaking her head.





	i don't mind you comin' here (and wastin' all my time)

**Author's Note:**

> Today's Flashback Friday features a secret hideout, an adventure, and a Cars singalong.
> 
> This takes place in May of 1982. Nicole is nearly 11, and Waverly is 9. 
> 
> Note: this idea was originally crafted as a small Goonies-style tribute. However, this story is set in 1982 and The Goonies didn't come out until 1985, so the movie isn't out yet in their timeline. But we have a feeling that Waverly would drag Wynonna and Nicole to the theater to see it.

**“Just What I Needed” The Cars, 1978  
** _ I don’t mind you comin’ here, and wastin’ all my time. ‘Cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind. _

Nicole’s legs are heavy. Her feet feel numb, and they slip off the pedals every few rotations. They’ve been biking for forever, she’s pretty sure. Wynonna pulls up to a stop sign on her 1980 Mongoose Motomag, and brakes, resting her feet on the pavement as she looks both ways. Nicole coasts up next to her and sighs, slumping forward on her handlebars of her 1977 Cycle Pro Foiler - Nathan’s hand-me-down. She rests her chin on her folded arms.

“You shouldn’t have eaten so many chili dogs,” Wynonna says.

“You should have said that earlier.  _ Before _ you cheered me on.”

Wynonna shrugs. “You were two away from the school record. I didn’t want to stop you on the edge of glory.”

Nicole tries to snort, and burps instead. She makes a face. Chili and cheese does not taste good on the way back up. Her stomach feels sour and her tongue is caked with the grittiness the cafeteria beans leave behind.

“I hate you,” Nicole whimpers.

Wynonna grins. “No, you don’t.”

“I hate you,” Nicole repeats. “And I hate that you let me do that.”

Wynonna claps her on the shoulder. Nicole’s entire body moves, her bike inching forward. “At least you didn’t puke right after you finished.” She snorts. “ _ Champ _ did.”

Nicole gives Wynonna a weak smile. She isn’t going to tell Wynonna that the only reason she didn’t ralph in the cafeteria, after swallowing the 14th hotdog down, was because Waverly was standing at the end of the table, her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes dark. She had on her ‘I-told-you-so’ face, the one that makes Nicole’s stomach turn over in a way that’s different than feeling sick, and Nicole wanted to prove a point.

She  _ could  _ break the school record for the eating the most chili dogs in her last month of 5th grade. She couldn’t figure out multiplying and dividing fractions, or correlative conjunctions, but she  _ could _ knock Nathan’s name off the top of the Chili Dog Eating Contest board.

“I bet they’ll build a statue of you,” Wynonna continues. “They’ll put it right at the start of the lunch line and they’ll put a plaque on it, like that Balto statue.”

Nicole watches a shiny, black, brand new 1982 Saab 900 Turbo drive by, a family of four singing along to “Kids in America” on the radio. It’s louder than the Kiss “Dynasty” tape playing from the basket on Nicole’s bike. 

_ “We’re the kids in America,” _ the mom sings over Kim Wilde.

“ _ Woah!” _ a kid shouts in the backseat. 

_ “We’re the kids in America! _ ” the dad sings, tapping against the steering wheel.

_ “Woah _ ” two kids sing from the backseat.

“What?” she asks Wynonna distractedly, her eyes tracking the Saab until it turns the corner, driving out of view. She looks at Wynonna. “What?” she asks again.

Wynonna is staring at her, eyes narrowed. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” Nicole says. She sits up a little straighter, ignoring the pull of her stomach.

“Because you look like you’re-”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Nicole says roughly. Her voice is hoarse, and her throat closes around the lie. She looks away from Wynonna, turning her head left and right. “Where are we going, anyway?”

She hears Wynonna sigh. The same sigh she uses when she sits at the counter at The Patch, with her chin in her hands, until Curtis gives in and makes her a milkshake. It’s her ‘I want attention’ sigh and Nicole ignores it, looking at all the houses across from where they’re stopped. They’re all the same: little pink houses, with happy families playing on the front lawn and washing their cars in the driveway. She scowls.

“This way,” Wynonna says, her voice far away.

Nicole blinks. Wynonna is pointing to the left, the direction the Saab went, and Nicole mounts her bike and starts that way, not waiting for Wynonna. Nicole knows she’ll catch up, and she’s using the anger in the pit of her stomach to push away the nausea and the tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

“Did you see the way Kyle York only ate  _ two _ chili dogs?”

Nicole barks out a laugh. “His face was  _ green _ .”

Wynonna stands up on her pedals and howls along to the chorus of “Sure Know Something.”

Nicole rolls her eyes but starts singing along when the second verse starts. 

“ _ I was seventeen, you were just a dream. I was mesmerized, I felt scared inside _ ,” they sing together. “ _ You broke my heart and I still can feel the pain _ .”

Wynonna pedals ahead of her and takes a sharp turn off the road, towards the sidewalk. Nicole follows, her stomach jumping again as she hits the curb too hard. She follows Wynonna down the sidewalk and off it, skidding to a stop in front a trail Nicole doesn’t recognize.

“Curtis took me fishing here last Sunday, for ‘bonding’,” Wynonna says, her face twisting around the word.

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “ _ This _ is where you guys came?”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “We’re not coming back. It was  _ lame _ . We listened to Fleetwood Mac and  _ The Everly Brother _ .”

Nicole gags. “The Everly Brothers?”

Wynonna levels her with a look. “It was  _ grody _ .” She dismounts her Motomag and walks it a few feet forward, looking back over her shoulder. “Come on. We’re not walking all the way to the lake. It’s only a little further.”

Nicole sighs heavily. “We could be at The Patch, you know.”

“Why?” Wynonna wiggles her eyebrows. “You still hungry?”

Nicole’s stomach protests. She swallows heavily, pushing back the rising chili dogs. “No,” she mutters.

She  _ is _ missing The Patch though. It’s her favorite place to be, besides Mattie’s on Saturday mornings. She loves sitting at the counter and spinning on the stools. She loves listening to Curtis read the headlines from the newspaper in funny voices. She loves listening to Gus shout through the window that Curtis doesn’t need to be entertaining customers, that’s why they got the jukebox. She loves when Waverly makes her a milkshake with extra whip cream on top, stretching on the tips of her toes to see how high the spiral of cream is. She loves when Wynonna pulls a chair in front of the jukebox and crosses her arms over her chest and glares at any of the other middle school kids who tries to put on The Bee Gees or ABBA.

She gets off her bike with a groan, walking next to it as she follows Wynonna down a dirt path. It winds out in front of her, but she can see a small clearing ahead. Wynonna walks to the center of it, drops her bike to the ground, and throws her arms out wide.

“Well? What do you think?”

“I think I could be sitting at the counter right now, listening to Bobo sing Supertramp,” Nicole mutters.

Wynonna ignores her and shimmies out of her backpack, dropping it next to her bike. “Curtis and I found it.” She takes Nicole’s bike out of her hands, passes the Hitachi to her to hold, and starts to drop the Foiler down next to her bike.

“Wynonna,” Nicole says, her voice quick. 

Wynonna catches the bike before it hits the ground, righting it again so she can scoop. 

“Sit down,” Wynonna instructs.

Nicole looks down at her jeans. She just washed them. She even got her mom to show her how to use the iron, and she didn’t even burn herself. Not  _ bad _ , at least. The crease is razor sharp and the denim is so dark and the ground… is so  _ dirty _ . 

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be such a narbo. It’s just  _ dirt _ .”

Nicole flexes her hand, a small burn from the iron - her only battle scar - cracking.

Wynonna groans and pulls a folder out of her backpack, opening it up and putting it down on the ground. “Is this better, your Highness?”

Nicole sits down gingerly, making sure to land square in the middle of the folder.

“Oh!” Wynonna jumps up off the ground, dirt flying.

Nicole ducks her head to avoid it, quickly brushing it off her new white shirt. It took forever for her to convince her mom to take her to the Sears and get her  _ own _ new pack. Usually, she’s stuck wearing Nathan’s old ones, with sweat stains on the collar and under the arms, and  _ other _ stains that she thinks is probably food, but she doesn’t want to find out.

Her mom had taken her to the girls section and stared too long at the flowery dresses and the pastel overalls. Nicole thumbed through shirt after shirt, blankly cataloging every ruffle or flower. Finally, her mom gave in and let her get two Hanes 3-packs of white, crisp, Nathan-free t-shirts.

They’d been in the checkout line when Nicole saw it: a Levi brand, faded denim jacket with an Aerosmith patch on the shoulder, red lettering and the logo in yellow. A small sign near the jacket said:  _ Patches at the register _ . Nicole pushed up on her toes and saw a small bin on the counter. She weaved through the line, making sure her mom could still see her, and came up to the edge of the counter.

There is was: a bowl of iron-on patches. Nicole touched them gingerly, afraid to break one. She could see the same Aerosmith patch as the one on the jacket, but there were more, too - a Bad Company one, a few different Journey ones, and even AC/DC. She picked out a Def Leppard one and held it in her hands gently. She traced her fingertip over the stitching, holding her breath.

_ It’s beautiful _ , she thought.

“Not today, honey,” her mom said, stepping up next to her and putting the Hanes 3-packs down. She pulled out her wallet and thumbed through it for enough money. “Maybe some other time.”

Nicole pouted the whole way home.

_ If Dad was still here, I’d have that jacket, _ she couldn’t help but think.

Wynonna rifles through her bag, pulling out folders and balled-up paper. She tosses pencils and erasers onto the ground, sighing in relief when she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out of a small piece of paper. There’s string tied to the top, making a loop. Wynonna looks around, finally spotting a tree a few feet away with a small twig poking out of its trunk. She loops the string over it, the paper swinging back and forth before it settles. 

“There. Now it’s ours.”

“ _ What _ is?” Nicole asks.

Wynonna looks around. “Our secret hideout.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow. “We’re in the middle of an empty space.” She tips her head to the side. “Ms. B was talking about secrets in English last week. Did you pay attention?”

Wynonna shrugs. “Doc says 5th grade is stupid. 6th grade is where you learn all the really important stuff.”

Nicole crosses her arms over her chest. “ _ Doc _ said.”

Wynonna looks down at the ground, suddenly shy. She drags the tip of her white Reeboks through the dirt. Nicole winces as the toe comes back brown. 

“Gus is going to be real mad,” she points out.

Wynonna looks up, peering at Nicole through narrowed eyes. “About Doc?”

Nicole frowns. “About your shoes.”

“Oh.” Wynonna looks down at her feet. “She doesn’t care about that. She’ll just make me clean ‘em.”

“What  _ about _ Doc?” Nicole pushes, ignoring that Wynonna won’t clean her shoes off. Waverly will probably do it, and Nicole will help. 

Wynonna shrugs again. “He told me he liked my Black Sabbath World Tour ‘78 shirt.”

Nicole narrows her eyes, thinking about the shirt. She knows the one: it has Tommy Iommi, Geezer Butler, Ozzy Osbourne, and Dave Walker on it - the founding members. 

Wynonna looks up, but over Nicole’s shoulder. “He asked me if I listened to their  _ Paranoid _ tape. He said he’d let me borrow it, because I haven’t heard it yet.”

Nicole laughs. “Curtis already has that tape. We’ve listened to it a hundred times. Why would he think that-” She pauses. “Why would you tell him you haven’t heard it?”

Wynonna shrugs a third time.

Nicole tips her head to the side, eyes narrowed. There’s a color in Wynonna’s cheeks that Nicole only sees whenever Gus scolds her in front of Waverly. It takes a moment for Nicole to remember the word for it: embarrassed. Wynonna is  _ embarrassed _ . 

About  _ Doc _ .

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Wynonna drags out. “This is our secret hideout. It’s  _ ours _ .” She points to the small sign. “It says so right there.”

Nicole squints. “ _ Wynonna and Nicole’s Sekrit Hideout _ .” She frowns. “That’s not how you spell secret.”

Wynonna crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her shoulders tight. “Ms. B said that if I don’t know how to spell a word, I should sound it out.”

Nicole nods quickly. “That’s right. I do that, too,” she says, her voice soft.

Wynonna’s arms and shoulders go slack. “Oh.” She narrows her eyes. “You do?”

“Totally. I did it on last week’s spelling test,” Nicole says, lying only a little. She had to sound out  _ ambiguous _ , the bonus word, but she finished her spelling test quickly. It took Wynonna almost all class.

“Oh,” Wynonna repeats. 

“It’s a great sign.”

Wynonna nods sharply. “It is, isn’t it.”

“ _ Totally _ .” Nicole throws her arms out wide, looking side to side. “So it’s our secret hideout.”

“Secret Hideout,” Wynonna emphasizes. “Totally ours. Totally secret. We can ride out here after school. We can bring your tapes and your cassette player and we don’t have to go to The Patch anymore.” She frowns. “We just have to give Waverly the slip,” she mutters.

Nicole frowns for a second.  _ No more Patch _ ? she thinks.  _ That means no more Curtis or Gus or Waverly _ .

Wynonna is still talking. “-And it’ll be  _ just _ us. No little sisters or annoying big brothers controlling the music.”

“That Black Sabbath shirt is Nathan’s!” Nicole says loudly, suddenly remembering. “He thought  _ I _ took it.”

Wynonna pauses, then shrugs carelessly. “My bad?”

The ache in her stomach is instantly gone. Nathan had stolen her Rick Springfield  _ Working Class Dog _ tape, the one she waited for forever to buy, because he thought  _ she _ stole his Black Sabbath shirt.

“Your-” Nicole blinks rapidly. “ _ Your bad _ ? He’s holding my Rick Springfield tape hostage!”

“But Doc  _ likes _ my shirt. I was going to wear it on Monday when he brings in his Walkman,” Wynonna pouts.

“It’s not  _ your _ shirt.”

Wynonna shrugs again. 

“I want it back,” Nicole demands. She sticks out her hand and curls her fingers in a  _ gimme _ motion. 

“Nicole,” Wynonna starts. She takes a slow step back. “You’re my best friend.”

“I’m not friends with thieves,” Nicole fires back. She takes a step forward.

Wynonna is still moving backwards. “You loved when we played cops and robbers,” she points out. She takes a few more steps, glancing back quickly over her shoulder.

Nicole follows her gaze and instantly knows what she’s thinking. “Wynonna,” she warns.

“If you want it,” Wynonna says slowly. “You’ll have to come and get it!” She turns and sprints the few feet to her bike, pushing it ahead of her. She mounts it mid-stride, grinning back at Nicole over her shoulder.

“Wynonna!”

Wynonna keeps pedaling. “First one to The Patch gets to keep the shirt!” She disappears around a bend in the trail, her laugh echoing behind her.

Nicole opens her mouth to shout something, but stops herself. She looks around the clearing, at Wynonna’s backpack and things scattered all over the ground, and sighs. Carefully, she starts to pick everything up, tucking it neatly back into the backpack, trying to ignore that Wynonna is just going to dump it out all over again. She picks up her bike and tucks the backpack into the basket, mounting her bike and pedaling slowly.

She hits a root, but her stomach doesn’t turn.

Maybe she could use a milkshake after all.

 

-

They go to their Secret Hideout every day the next week. 

On Monday, Wynonna tells Gus they’re going to Nicole’s house and Gus just tells them to stay out of Nicole’s mom’s way. 

Tuesdays are supposed to be piano lesson day. Wynonna sneaks out of the building and down to the sidewalk during lunch, and uses the payphone to call her teacher. “I’m not feeling good,” she lies, coughing hard into the receiver.

On Wednesday, they go right from gym class out the back door, clothes shoved in their backpacks. When they get to their hideout, Nicole dumps out her clothes and tries to smooth out the lines in her t-shirt. It looks even more grody than the Purgatory Middle School gym class-issued shirt. She can’t even call it white anymore. It’s a white-gray, spotted with yellow stains. Nicole pulls it over her head quickly, ignoring the smell, and shoves it into her backpack. Her white shirt comes down over her head and she exhales in relief.

On Thursday, they barely make it out the door fast enough. Nicole can hear Waverly calling her name across the pavement playground, and it takes everything in her to keep moving forward, to her bike, and off school grounds. Wynonna said it was just for them, no one else. She even said definitely  _ not _ Waverly. And then she made them spit into their hands and shake on it. Nathan always tells her you can’t break a spit-promise.

On Friday, the last bell rings and they’re out the door, racing from the stairs to the bike rack on the other side of the playground. Nicole is usually faster than Wynonna, but Wynonna grabs her by the backpack and pulls her back. She nearly falls, but catches herself at the last minute and leans forward instead, dropping onto her palms. She can feel the gravel cut into them. 

“Cheater!” she yells loudly.

She stands and starts to run after Wynonna, but something grabs her by the backpack again and tugs, keeping her in place. Nicole growls and turns, ready to give whoever it is a piece of her mind, and stops short.

“Oh.”

Waverly glares at her. “Where are you going?”

Nicole looks nervously at the bike rack. Wynonna is throwing a leg over her Motomag, oblivious to Nicole stuck halfway across the parking lot.

They had managed to avoid Waverly the whole week - Thursday was the closest she had gotten to catching them at the end of the day.  _ She must have left homeroom early _ , Nicole thinks.  _ To be able to catch us _ . 

Nicole tries to take a step forward, but Waverly tightens the grip she has on Nicole’s backpack.

“Waves,” Nicole tries.

“Don’t ‘ _ Waves _ ’ me,” Waverly says. She points a finger at Nicole. “You guys are hiding something.”

Nicole looks in Wynonna’s direction again, but she’s hanging over the bike rack, talking to Xavier Dolls about something. Nicole watches Wynonna reach out and flick the collar of Xavier’s polo shirt - a neon green today.

When Nicole looks back at Waverly, she feels herself deflate. Waverly is pouting, her chin tipped down. She’s still holding onto Nicole’s backpack and her fingernails are painted. Nicole stares at them for a minute, trying to remember the name of the polish.  _ Hot Looks Fast Dry 35 _ , she remembers.

She wonders why she can remember the name of Waverly’s nail polish, but not how to do her math homework.

Waverly kicks at the ground, nearly scuffing the tops of her Reeboks. Her free hand is curled into a light fist at her side. Nicole watches it unfurl, and Waverly lifts it, rubbing at her eyes.

Something in Nicole’s chest cracks softly. She lets her backpack slip off her shoulder as she turns fully, resting her hands on Waverly’s shoulder. “Waverly, don’t-” She sucks in a breath. “We aren’t… we’re not  _ hiding _ it from you. We’re just… not  _ telling _ anyone.”

Waverly’s head snaps up. Her eyes are dry, dark, and narrowed. “So you  _ do _ have a secret.”

Nicole groans. “Waverly.”

“Just tell me,” Waverly demands. “I’m nine now and I can know things.”

Nicole looks over her shoulder and sighs. Wynonna has finally noticed she’s missing and is standing on the pedals of her bike, mouth turned down as she scans the parking lot. 

“Listen,” she says hastily. “We’re going out towards the edge of town. Wait a few minutes and then follow us. Turn left- you remember your left?”

Waverly flicks her in the left shoulder. “This one, right?”

Nicole rubs at her arm and nods. “Fine. Turn left at Rt. 81 and you’ll see the trailhead. Go down a little bit and we’ll be there.”

Waverly grabs her by the arm when she turns to leave. “Wait, how far down?”

Nicole frowns, thinking for a moment. “The first two verses and the first chorus of ‘Eye of the Tiger’,” Nicole decides. “ _ With _ the instrumental.”

Waverly nods seriously. “I need to go talk to Chrissy first. She wants to bedazzle this weekend.” She smiles brightly and pushes up onto her tiptoes, spinning gracefully and bouncing off across the playground.

Nicole sighs and pulls back the platt of her jean jacket, peeking into the inside pocket. The small reflective beads Waverly had bedazzled into the fabric sparkle in the afternoon sun. She trails her finger over the small ‘N’ Waverly decided on. She pushes her hand into her pocket and feels the back of the beads against her palm. She picks her backpack up and finally makes it across the parking lot.

“Are you ready yet, Dexter?” Wynonna doesn’t wait, pushing off and pedaling out of the parking lot.

Nicole presses play on her Hitachi, The Rolling Stones’ “Miss You” floating from the speakers as she weaves through some kids throwing a baseball around, past the pickup line, following Wynonna down the sidewalk and off the property. She looks back over her shoulder and finds Waverly quickly, by the swingset, talking to Chrissy Nedley.

Nicole catches up to Wynonna as they turn off Main Street, headed towards Rt. 81.

“You need to stop borrowing Curtis’s tapes,” Wynonna throws over her shoulder.

Nicole shrugs. “I like his music.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath that sounds like ‘ _ suck up,’ _ but she’s too far ahead for Nicole to really hear her. They move steadily down Rt. 81, turning left as the song changes to “When The Whip Comes Down.” Even Wynonna sings along to this one as they get off the sidewalk and onto the dirt path. 

Nicole parks her bike under the big tree. She pulls the Hitachi out of the front basket and puts it down on a flat stump, sitting down next to it. She pauses to look at their new sign. Wynonna had brought out a piece of wood she ripped off one of the delivery pallets behind The Patch, and nailed a cardboard sign to it, banging it into the ground with the heel of her sneaker.

“This is  _ best _ ,” Wynonna sighs, throwing her arms out wide. “Just you and me.”

Nicole winces.

“No Gus yelling at me to help run orders. No Curtis asking if I did my homework.” Wynonna’s eyes are wide and bright. “No stupid Bobo or crappy music on the jukebox. And best of all,” she adds, leaning in. “No. Waverly.”

“So  _ this _ is where you’ve been hiding!” Waverly shouts at exactly the wrong moment.

Wynonna’s eyes widen. “What the-”

“ _ Language _ ,” Nicole hisses.

Wynonna ignores. “What are  _ you _ doing here?” she asks Waverly, her back teeth grinding together.

Waverly straightens her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Nicole feels herself sliding back on the stump she’s using for a stool, suddenly afraid of the look in Waverly’s eyes. Wynonna does the opposite, leaning forward and baring her teeth.

“You’re hiding something!”

“Yeah!” Wynonna shouts back. “Myself! From  _ you! _ ”

Waverly stomps forward, her hands on her hips. Her face is twisted and splotchy. “That’s mean!”

Wynonna rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. “Oh, go tell Curtis, would you.”

“Maybe I will,” Waverly hisses. “You’re not supposed to keep secrets.”

“ _ Maybe _ you should go back home, you big baby.” Wynonna takes another step forward, her feet stomping through the dirt. “I can keep whatever secrets I want.”

“Gus said-”

“ _ Gus said, _ ” Wynonna mocks. 

Waverly narrows her eyes. “Stop it.”

“ _ Stop it _ ,” Wynonna says.

Waverly stomps her foot. “Wynonna, don’t.”

“ _ Wynonna, don’t _ .”

“Wynonna,” Waverly growls.

“ _ Wy-” _

“Stop it!” Nicole shouts, pushing off the stump and putting herself between them. She holds out her arms, hands up as she tries to keep the peace. “Just, stop.”

Wynonna takes another step forward. “You need to go home,” she says to Waverly over Nicole’s shoulder. “You’re just a baby and this is  _ my _ secret hideout.  _ Ours _ ,” she corrects, when she looks at Nicole. “When you grow up, you can come back, but you’re only-

“I’m  _ nine _ !”

“Nine,” Wynonna finishes. “And… and the rules say you have to be  _ ten _ .”

Nicole frowns, her arms dropping. “I thought we didn’t have any rules.”

“ _ Can it _ ,” Wynonna hisses out of one side of her mouth. She looks back at Waverly and crosses her arms over her chest. “Those are the rules.”

“Rules is plural. That means more than one,” Waverly says, her mouth twisted into a smug grin. “Don’t you pay attention in school?”

“Waves,” Nicole warns. 

“I’m  _ nine _ and I’m smarter than-”

“ _ Waverly _ ,” Nicole says again. She turns, putting her back to Wynonna. “Listen,” she whispers. “If you want to stay, you  _ have _ to be nice.  _ Don’t _ talk about school.”

Waverly’s shoulders sag a little and her eyes soften. “Okay,” she mumbles. “Sorry.”

Nicole turns, putting her hands up in front of her in surrender. “Wynonna,” she starts.

Wynonna is already shaking her head. “No. No way. This is  _ ours _ .”

Nicole looks over her shoulder at Waverly. Waverly gives her a small, hopeful smile. Nicole takes a deep breath. “Wynonna.”

“No way.”

“But if we let Waverly stay, we’ll have an odd number.” She waits a second. “One, three, five-”

“Seven, nine,” Wynonna finishes, nodding. “I remember.”

Nicole smiles. “Voting will be easier. I mean, we’ve had our secret hideout a week and we can’t even decide on an official theme song.”

“That’s because-”

“A third person would be a tie-breaker,” Nicole points out.

“Not if you always agree with Waverly,” Wynonna mumbles.

Nicole feels her face flush. “Not always,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. Wynonna opens her mouth to say something, but Nicole shakes her head. “Come on. Just this once?”

Waverly steps in close, her shoulder brushing Nicole’s arm. “I’m sorry, Wynonna. I just…” She drags the toe of her sneaker through the dirt. Nicole swallows hard. “I don’t want to be left behind again.”

Wynonna’s eyes soften. “Waves,” she breathes out.

Waverly folds her arms over her chest, pulling her shoulders in. “Please don’t leave me behind again,” she whispers.

Wynonna sighs. “Waverly, that’s not what I’m doing.”

Waverly shrugs, eyes scanning the woods. 

Nicole curls her hand around the curve of Waverly’s elbow, rubbing her thumb across the denim of her jean jacket. She looks at Wynonna and makes a face.

Wynonna shakes her head, her mouth forming the word ‘no,’ but not saying it out loud.

Nicole narrows her eyes. ‘Yes’ she mouths back.

Wynonna glares back at her, still shaking her head. “Waverly,” she finally says.

“It’s fine,” Waverly interrupts. “I’ll just go back to The Patch and stay away from you.”

Wynonna cuts her off when Waverly starts to turn around. She grabs Waverly by the shoulders, Nicole getting stuck in the middle of them. “I’m not leaving you behind. I promised you, didn’t I?” She waits for Waverly to nod. “I promised I’d never leave you behind again. And I’m not gonna.  _ Ever _ .”

“So I can stay?” Waverly asks hopefully.

Wynonna sighs. “Okay,” she says softly. “But  _ I _ make the rules.”

Waverly nods eagerly. “Okay!” She puffs out her chest. “I can follow rules. I’m a good rule-follower.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but smiles to take the sting out of it. “Yeah, we know. You’re a real star.”

Nicole lets her hand drop from Waverly’s elbow, pushing it deep into her jeans pocket. Her jacket feels too heavy all of the sudden, her neck hot and sweaty. She blames it on Wynonna’s dark eyes and the tension in Waverly’s shoulders. She shrugs out of her jacket, storing it in the basket on her bike.

“We really do need a theme song,” Wynonna says.

“Oh, what about ‘Super Trooper’ by ABBA?” Waverly asks.

Wynonna groans. “You better  _ not _ agree to that,” she says, jabbing her finger into Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole fights a wince. “ _ No way _ . I still vote ‘The Best of Times’ because it’s  _ perfect _ .”

Both Wynonna and Waverly groan.

-

“Okay, so Waverly is going to decide between ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ and ‘And The Cradle Will Rock…,’ right?”

Nicole nods firmly, blinking rapidly against the sunlight as it pokes through the trees, hitting her in the eyes. “She’ll vote for my song. She likes Queen. She says Freddy Mercury is the prettiest boy she’s ever seen.”

Wynonna points a finger at her. “Don’t try anything funny.”

“Funny?” Nicole repeats. “What would I do?” So what if she changed her song from Styx to Queen, just because she knows Waverly likes Freddy Mercury.

“I don’t know,” Wynonna says slowly. “But you always get her to pick your side, and I don’t know why.” She narrows her eyes. “Are you a witch?”

Nicole frowns. “A witch.”

Wynonna shrugs. “You might be. I’ve never seen you shower, you know. What if you’re just like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“Wicked Witch of the…” Nicole stands, pushing up from the stump she’s sitting on, brushing off the back of her pants. She can’t stand  _ The Wizard of Oz _ , and Wynonna knows it.  _ The monkeys, _ Nicole had told her during a sleepover, after Curtis left the VHS out for them.  _ I can’t… I don’t like the monkeys. _

“Say that to my face,” she challenges.

Wynonna’s lips curl up in the corners. “Maybe you’re the Wicked Witch of the West,” she breathes out.

“Maybe you’re  _ toast _ ,” Nicole fires back, lunging forward.

Wynonna slips to the left and Nicole stumbles, her sneaker catching on a root. She goes down hard, sticks digging into the soft parts of her palms. It stings instantly, but the burn is dull compared to the sharp realization that she landed on her hands and  _ knees _ . She stands quickly, but the damage has already been done. The knees of her jeans are dark with dirt. She can feel the wet bark and leaves already soaking through the denim to her skin. 

She looks up slowly, her eyes wide.

“These are  _ new _ .”

Wynonna snickers. “And now they’re not.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Hey!” Waverly shouts, skidding to a stop on her bike. She’s still a little unsteady, and Nicole wants to remind her to take it slow, it’s okay not to rush. But Waverly is waving her arms around and dropping her 1981 Schwinn Stingray to the ground, the pink tassles coming out of the handlebars fluttering softly. “Stop what you’re doing.”

Nicole immediately straightens up, the wet dirt on her knees fading briefly from her mind. “What’s wrong.”

Wynonna steps closer, her eyebrows knitted in concern. “What’s the matter?”

Waverly doubles over, pressing her palms into her knees and breathing in deeply before she stands back up. “There’s… I…”

Nicole takes a step towards Waverly. “What’s  _ wrong _ ?”

“Buried treasure!” Waverly shouts. Nicole steps back again, startled. “There’s buried treasure.”

Nicole frowns.

“What?” Wynonna asks, her eyes lighting up. “Where?”

Waverly points deeper into the woods, towards where Nicole knows the lake is.

“Wait,” Nicole starts.

“The lake,” Waverly pants, shaking out her hands. “Curtis told me this morning, after you guys left for school.”

Wynonna’s shoulders turn in. “The lake,” she repeats.

Waverly nods, her head bouncing up and down. The light peeking through the trees overhead catches the top of her head, hitting the shiny strands of her hair enough to catch Nicole’s attention. She can’t look away. It reminds her of the Christmas lights she helped Curtis hang in the window of The Patch - bright and sparkling and close enough to reach out and touch. She feels her arm lifting and she slams it back down against her side, hard enough for Waverly to look over and frown.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. She can feel Wynonna’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t turn to look at her.

Waverly looks at her for another minute and shrugs, turning her attention back to Wynonna. “Curtis told me it’s at the lake. In the rocks on the other side.”

Wynonna frowns, tipping her head to the side. “There’s no rocks on the other side of the lake.”

“ _ In _ the lake,” Waverly rushes to correct. She bounces on the tips of her toes, swaying side to side. “The rocks on the other side of the lake that are  _ in _ the water.”

“Oh,” Wynonna says softly. Her shoulders hunch in even more, nearly up to her ears. “In the water,” she repeats.

Nicole sucks in her bottom lip, something important right on the tip of her tongue. She can’t remember it, though. Not when Waverly is moving in circles around them, her hands brushing against Nicole’s wrist and Wynonna’s shoulder. She spins on the tips of her toes, kicking up leaves and sticks. 

“Curtis said there’s a treasure chest filled with gold and jewels,” Waverly breathes out. 

Nicole remembers that her dad read her story about wood nymphs, once. She said she didn’t think they exist, even when he showed her the picture at the back of the book.  _ They’re not real _ , she told her dad. But looking at Waverly, as she skips easily around the flattened stump, Nicole tips her head to the side and decides that Waverly look just like the picture.  _ Maybe they do exist _ , she thinks to herself.

“And only the wordy, I mean  _ worthy _ , can reach it,” Waverly continues.

Wynonna scoffs, harsh and angry. “You’re a liar.”

Nicole frowns. “Wynonna-”

“There’s no treasure,” she says firmly. She turns to Nicole, her eyes as hard as her voice. “This is why I said we couldn’t have babies in our secret hideout.”

“Wynonna,” Nicole sighs.

She thought they were done with this argument. It’s been two weeks of getting along; of taking turns listening to different tapes; of sitting outside of Wynonna’s piano lessons to wait for her before riding into the woods; of stopping by Nathan’s baseball games before disappearing for the rest of the night.

“There is, too,” Waverly insists. Nicole sees her lift her leg, like she’s going to stomp her foot, but she puts it down slowly. They had made a rule that Waverly couldn’t stomp her feet, just like Nicole can’t use Waverly’s math folders as a floor mat to keep her jeans clean, and how Wynonna can’t call Waverly a ‘baby’ anymore. “Curtis said it was there.”

“Curtis can lie,” Wynonna points out.

Nicole shakes her head, unable to believe it.

Waverly doesn’t believe it either. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He’s a  _ grownup _ ,” Wynonna spits. “Grownups  _ lie _ .”

“Not Curtis,” Waverly insists. “And not Gus.”

Wynonna opens her mouth to argue back - Nicole can see it in the way her eyes narrow. It’s the same look she gets on her face before she tells their science teacher, Mrs. B, that she didn’t do her homework because she didn’t want to, which is exactly the  _ wrong _ thing to say to Mrs. B. Nicole jumps in front of Wynonna, just like she does in class, and blocks her from Waverly’s view.

“Are we going treasure hunting?”

Waverly smiles wide enough that Nicole is afraid her face is going to break in half, the long way. “Can we?”

Nicole nods eagerly.  _ Treasure hunting _ . She used to hunt for buried treasure in her backyard. At Easter, her dad would hide eggs all over the place - in the back and out in the front, up in trees and under the car bumpers. She and Nathan would race to see who could collect the most eggs the quickest, and the winner got the extra slice of bacon at brunch. She looks at Wynonna excitedly. _ Finally, an adventure _ . Wynonna has been wanting an adventure. But here it is, and Wynonna is shaking her head.

“No.” Wynonna crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to hunt for stupid buried treasure.”

Waverly’s smile dims. “But it’s just on the other side of the lake.”

“ _ In _ the water,” Wynonna grumbles, only loud enough for Nicole to hear.

The thing on the tip of Nicole’s tongue, the thing she couldn’t remember, comes back to her instantly.  _ Wynonna can’t swim _ . She can wade into the water and stand in creeks, but the rock formation is far enough out that the water goes above Nicole’s head a little bit, and Wynonna can’t swim. 

Wynonna clears her throat, speaking up so Waverly can hear her. “Buried treasure is for ba-” She catches Nicole’s eye and stops. “For dweebs,” she says. “And I’m not a dweeb.” She picks her Motomag off the ground, throwing a leg over the frame and planting both feet on the ground. “If you two want to be dweebs, fine. But I’m going to get a milkshake.” She looks at Nicole. “Are you coming?”

Nicole looks between Waverly and Wynonna. Her brain is screaming at her, telling her to go get a milkshake; that Waverly will get over it; that if she can teach Waverly how to ride a bike, she can spend the summer teaching Wynonna how to swim. But her heart is shouting that she needs to go find the buried treasure; that maybe if she does, she can tell her dad about it if he calls again.

Wynonna must see it on her face, because she scoffs. “Whatever,  _ dweeb _ .” She pushes off and pedals hard, not looking back over her shoulder.

For a second, Nicole thinks about chasing after her. Waverly’s fingers bite at the skin of her wrist and then loop around it, tugging her down the trail towards the lake.

“Come on,” she urges.

It takes them a minute - exactly one chorus from “Take It on the Run” - to get to the edge of the lake. Waverly’s hand stays wrapped around her wrist the whole time, half a step ahead of Nicole. They get so close, too excited, that Waverly almost drags them into the water. Nicole pulls back just as Waverly goes to put her clean Reeboks into lake, steadying them on the dry dirt.

“There,” Waverly breathes out.

Nicole sees it, the rock formation out towards the other side of the lake. Her eyes scan the water’s edge, around in a wide circle to the other side. She’s never been over there, but she doesn’t think the rocks look that far away from the shore. She squints a little, studying the shape.

“It’s there?” she asks.

Waverly nods. “Curtis said tons of people have tried. But no one got it.”

Nicole exhales slowly, her chest swelling. If they can get the treasure, she can tell her dad about it. Maybe she’ll even be in a history book, like Lewis and Clark.

“Let’s do it,” she says. She looks at Waverly still holding her hand, and she smiles. “Let’s do it.”

Waverly smiles wide, her hand squeezing Nicole’s. “Tomorrow. I’ll make us a map.” She starts pulling them back towards their secret hideout and their bikes. “Oh, I can have Curtis help draw it. And you need to wear your old jean jacket instead of your new one because I just bedazzled your new one and it took a long time.”

Nicole groans a little. Her old jean jacket is too short in the arms and Waverly bedazzled that one, too. Except she wasn’t really good at it, yet, and some of the jewels poke Nicole in the sides.

“I can pack snacks, too!” Waverly says excitedly. She drops Nicole’s hand and carefully picks up her bike, running her fingers through the tassles.

Nicole mounts her Foiler, resting on her toes as Waverly struggles to get her leg over the frame. It’s still a little big for her, but Curtis told them all that Waverly would grow into it. “Can you make a fluffernutter sandwich?”

Waverly grimaces, but shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do.”

Waverly tips her head to the side and stares at her for a second. “Is fluffernutters your favorite?”

Nicole shrugs. “I don’t know. Favorite what?”

“Favorite anything,” Waverly says.

“Oh.” Nicole chews on her bottom lip for a minute while she thinks. “I don’t know. I have a lot of favorite things.”

Waverly finally gets her leg over the frame of her Stingray and starts pedaling back towards the entrance to the trail. “Like fluffernutters. Is Wynonna your favorite?”

Nicole laughs. “Well, yeah. She’s my best friend.”

Waverly’s mouth turns down. “I don’t have a best friend.”

Nicole swerves to avoid a root. She pulls up on the handlebars when she goes over the next one, trying to lift her front tire the way she saw Nathan do on the curb outside of their house. “What about Chrissy?” She looks back over her shoulder.

Waverly shrugs. “I think Stephanie is her best friend.”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “Stephanie Jones is the worst. She likes  _ bologna _ sandwiches.”

“ _ I _ like bologna,” Waverly says roughly.

Nicole turns her bike in a circle, coming up next to Waverly. “Yeah, well. That’s okay.”

Waverly’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t look at Nicole. “Why is it okay?”

Nicole pedals quietly next to Waverly for a minute, thinking. “I don’t know,” she finally says.

Waverly looks at her quickly, her eyes trained on the road again almost instantly. “Okay.” She goes quiet again, and Nicole suddenly remembers she forgot to press play on her Hitachi. 

“Outlaw Man” comes on, Peter Frey singing about leaving a woman down in Sante Fe, heading for Oklahoma. 

“You need to stop stealing Curtis’s tapes,” Waverly says.

Nicole shrugs. “He let me borrow it.”

Waverly starts to pedal a little harder. “Last one to The Patch is a rotten egg!”

Nicole lets her get a few more feet ahead before she starts trying to catch up.

 

-

After school the next day, Nicole finds Waverly near the bike rack and waits at the edge of the parking lot for Waverly to get on her bike. It takes a minute. Her backpack is large and heavy -  Nicole had carried it into school for her and dropped it off in the fourth grade classroom. She almost offers to take it now and give Waverly her backpack instead, but Waverly has that ‘ _ I can do it _ ’ look on her face, and she never wants any help when she looks like that.

Nicole looks down sadly at her Foiler and sighs, remembering that same look on Waverly’s face just before she snapped the chain for the second time. Teaching Waverly to ride had been worth it, though, because she can’t balance anyone on her bike well and riding is faster than walking. Waverly’s bike wobbles unsteadily for a moment, but she finds her center, balancing carefully on the long seat. 

She presses play on her Hitachi and grins when she remembers she put The Cars’ self-titled cassette into the deck this morning.

Wynonna ignores them as they pedal out of the parking lot. She’d been fine  _ during _ school, when it was just her and Nicole, by themselves in the back of Mrs. B’s class. But on the ride into school, and at lunch, with Waverly around, Wynonna was snappy and short. She had flicked her pointer finger hard against Nicole’s ear during math, their last class of the day, and asked if she was really going treasure hunting with  _ Waverly _ . When Nicole said yes, Wynonna rolled her eyes and spent the rest of the class bothering Xavier Dolls.

“Come on!” Waverly yells over her shoulder without turning back.

Nicole pedals faster, catching up to Waverly and then getting ahead of her. She keeps that speed for the rest of the ride to the hideout, skidding to a stop through the leaves and dirt when she reaches the clearing. She carefully leans her Foiler up against the big tree, turning off her boombox.

“Help,” Waverly grunts as she brakes next to Nicole.

Nicole grabs for Waverly’s backpack, peeling the straps off her shoulders and setting it down. She frowns. “Did it get heavier?”

Waverly stares back at her. “I had to bring my homework home.”

“It’s  _ May _ ,” Nicole points out.

“So?”

“ _ So _ , school is almost over. Why’re you still bringing home,” she pauses, opening the big part of Waverly’s bag. She pulls out the large textbook taking up most of the space. “Your history book,” she finishes.

Waverly grabs for the book. “Mr. Cryderman said-”

“Mr. Cryderman teaches  _ high school _ . You’re in fourth grade.”

“He visited our class,” Waverly says, speaking over Nicole. “And he told us we should never stop being students.”

“It’s May,” Nicole repeats. “I’m done being a student.”

Waverly shrugs and gently places her textbook into the basket on Nicole’s bicycle, handing Nicole the Hitachi. “Bring this with you. What do you have for tapes?”

“I have The Cars in here, and-”

“The Cars works,” Waverly says firmly. She reaches back into her bag and pulls out a folded piece of paper, spreading it out on the ground. “Curtis helped me make a map last night.”

Nicole flinches when Waverly grabs for her pant leg with the same hand that had just been pressed into the dirt. She slips out of Waverly’s reach and hugs her Hitachi close to her chest. She’s wearing her old jean jacket, like Waverly asked, but she wore her new one to school and shoved into her backpack right before the end of the day. “Why do we need a map? We can just follow the lake around to the other side.”

Waverly makes a face at her. It’s the same face Gus makes at Curtis when he asks a question Gus thinks he should already know the answer to. “But that’s not as fun.”

Nicole shrugs. “But it means we can get the treasure and get back to The Patch before the dinner rush. Curtis won’t read the comics during the dinner rush.”

Waverly stands with her hands on her hips. “If you didn’t want to come on an adventure, you could have-”

“I do!” Nicole insists. She squats down, just barely avoiding a moss-covered rock. “Which way are we going?” 

She peers at the map. Waverly drew it on a piece of large construction paper. She probably used the crayons Wynonna got her for her birthday. Everything is in shades of green: the trees and the leaves and even the lake. There’s a crooked brown line that runs from the bottom lefthand corner of the map, up and across the page in zigzag lines that makes Nicole twist her head back and forth as she tries to follow its winding path. It eventually ends at a large red ‘x’ over a few black circles in the middle of the green-blue lake. 

“We’re going to cut through the woods,” Waverly says proudly, jabbing her finger at the brown zigzag. “I even wrote when we’re taking snack breaks.”

Nicole leans a little closer, her nose nearly brushing the map. “It says ten minutes. I don’t have a watch.”

“We can figure it out by songs,” Waverly decides. She rifles through the basket on the front of Nicole’s bike, pulling out the case for The Cars. “I like them.”

“Name two songs by them,” Nicole challenges.

Waverly turns the case over, reading the back. “‘My Best Friend’s Girl’ and ‘Just What I Needed’.”

Nicole frowns. “That’s cheating.”

“You can’t cheat if there are no rules.”

Nicole opens her mouth to argue, but snaps it closed again. She could have sworn she’d heard Wynonna say that before, but they need to get going before it gets too late and too dark to be swimming in the lake.

Waverly pulls her backpack on again, tightening the straps around her shoulders. It’s still heavy enough that Waverly’s back bows slightly, but she takes a deep breath in and stomps forward a few feet. The bag doesn’t move. She looks back at Nicole proudly, her shoulders wide and her stance strong. Nicole squints a little and sees Gus, standing in front of Bobo and telling him to get himself together or she’s going to fire him and take him apart again.

“Ready?”

Nicole blinks a few times, trying to pull herself out of her head. “Lead the way.”

“You promise you’ll follow me and not leave me out in the woods?”

Nicole holds up three fingers, nodding sharply. “Scout’s honor.”

Waverly pauses, frowning. “You were a Scout?”

“Well, no,” Nicole starts.

“Then how can you use the honor promise?”

“It’s not-” Nicole stops saying. “They don’t  _ own _ it.”

Waverly’s frown deepens. “Yeah, but-”

“Just let me…” Nicole trails off, breathing in deeply. “Saying ‘Scout’s honor’ is cooler than just saying ‘I promise,’ okay?

Waverly stares at her for a minute before nodding. “Okay. Fine.”

Nicole nods back. “Okay. Fine,” she echoes. She pauses for a second, tapping her foot nervously against the ground. “So, Scout’s honor.”

“Scout’s honor,” Waverly repeats.

Nicole throws her arm out in a wide circle. “So, let’s go.”

Waverly turns and starts down the marked trail. Her backpack looks wrong, like a large hump on her back. She sways side to side as she tries to figure out how to walk with all the extra weight.  She looks back over her shoulder once, frowning when she realizes Nicole isn’t following her. “Come  _ on _ .”

Nicole jogs to catch up, stopping as she gets to Waverly’s side. “I’m here,” she assures her. She presses play on her boombox, “Good Times Roll” starting.

_ “Let the good times roll, _ ” Waverly sings off-key. “ _ Let them knock you around. Let the good times roll. Let them make you a clown. _ ”

Nicole grins widely. They walk side by side down the trail, their shoulders bumping as they sing together. Waverly grips the straps of her backpack tightly, stepping gingerly over roots and rocks as they turn off the path and into the woods. She stumbles over a stick, falling forward before Nicole catches her and holds her upright.

“Thanks,” Waverly breathes out.

“Course,” Nicole says.

Something moves in the woods, catching Nicole’s attention. She pauses for a second, her finger hovering over the stop button on her Hitachi. She doesn’t hear anything else. She shakes her head; she’s being ridiculous. The Cars keep playing and Waverly keeps singing and Nicole keeps smiling.

“ _ Let the stories be told _ ,” Nicole takes over, singing. “ _ They can say what they want. Let the photos be old, let them show what they want. _ ”

Waverly grins widely. “I love adventures.”

Nicole laughs. “Have you been on a lot of them?”

“Well,” Waverly starts, frowning. “No. This is my first adventure. But I already love it.”

Nicole thinks about the adventures her dad promised they would go on. She scowls for a minute, worried that she won’t be able to have them, now that he’s gone. 

Waverly doesn’t notice, though, her eyes bright and unfocused. “Curtis said he’s been on a lot of adventures. He said he was adventure… advent…  _ adventurous _ ,” she finally says, stretching out each syllable. She shrugs. “Gus said that means he just dated a lot of girls.”

Nicole frowns a little. “So if I want to be adventurous,” she says, the word funny in her mouth. “It means I want to date a lot of girls?”

Waverly shrugs again. “I don’t know. Probably.”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

Waverly adjusts the straps of her backpack again. “Ew, what? Girls?”

“ _ Dating _ ,” Nicole says, her lips pulled back in a sneer. “I mean, I don’t even like talking to people. Xavier never smiles. Perry is always busy fixing his hair. And Kyle and Pete and Champ are  _ the worst _ . Stephanie Jones is... “ Nicole makes a face. “I guess Chrissy Nedley is okay, but not if she’s best friends with Stephanie instead of you. Besides,” she says firmly. “I really only like you and Wynonna. And my mom says dating is just spending time with your favorite people.”

_ And your father was my favorite person, _ Nicole’s mom had said.  _ So until I find someone who I like just as much, I’m going to spend lots of time with you and Nathan _ .

“I think dating is romantic,” Waverly says wistfully. 

“You like ABBA,” Nicole points out.

“So?”

Nicole pauses. She thinks she hears that noise again, but she’s not sure. Her tape has a few soft spots, places where the tape is a little weaker than the rest of the reel. It makes it sound a little more staticy, a little rougher.  _ That’s probably it _ , she thinks. 

“What?” she asks Waverly.

“So what if I like Abba,” Waverly repeats.

Nicole rolls her eyes. “So dating isn’t  _ romantic _ . It’s  _ fun _ .”

“It can be both,” Waverly insists.

“Wait,” Nicole whispers. The noise is back, closer now. She grips Waverly by the upper arm with one hand, pulling her in a little closer. She stretches out her other arm, clutching her Hitachi tight in her hand. She’ll swing if she really,  _ really _ needs to. Her eyes narrow as she tries to scan the woods the way she thinks she saw on TV once. Waverly wasn’t wrong about coloring everything green; Nicole can only see leaves and brown bark and nothing that would explain what sounds like a bear crashing through the brush. She loosens her grip on Waverly’s arm, straightening up and out of the small crouch she ended up in. “Must be nothing,” she murmurs.

She opens her mouth to say something else, but something comes flying out at her from behind a bush, catching her in the leg. Nicole pulls Waverly behind her, her Hitachi up in the air and ready to strike. 

“Who’s there?” she shouts.

There’s nothing but Waverly breathing hard in her ear. Nicole can feel Waverly grabbing at her jacket, pulling the denim tight over her shoulders. She spins in a slow circle, eyes darting between the trees. She’s about to open her mouth and shout again when something comes at her from the left. She shoves Waverly, hard, and tries to turn to face whatever it is.

She feels a body slam into her own, taking her to the ground. The bedazzled beads on her jean jacket poke into her side, but the pain is swallowed up by the rush of fear that she didn’t push Waverly away fast enough. Nicole pulls her legs in and tries to kick them out again, to push the person on her off. Distantly, she can hear Waverly shouting something, but her ears are ringing. Nicole grabs at the person’s arm, twisting it back as she rolls over and on top, using her knees to keep them pinned to the ground.

“Uncle, uncle!” Wynonna shouts.

Nicole freezes and her body goes slack. Wynonna bucks her hips and knocks Nicole to the side. 

Nicole lands on her back, staring up at the bright green leaves of the trees, panting. Her jean jacket is twisted underneath her, digging into her back, and exposing her white shirt.  _ This was a brand new shirt _ , she thinks miserably. She can feel the dirt rubbing uncomfortably against her bare skin. A hand grabs her arm, tugging at it. Nicole blinks against the sun. Dark spots hover over Waverly’s face, and then her hand, gripping Nicole’s sleeve. 

Nicole turns her head, feeling the cool ground on her face, and tries to look at Wynonna through the dark spots still swimming in front of her eyes.

“Dude,” Wynonna moans. She’s in jeans like usual, but she’s wearing Curtis’s fishing vest over her t-shirt.  It’s way too big on her and it looks like every pocket is filled. Wynonna brushes her hair out of her eyes and grins at Nicole.

“That was just like the movies!” Waverly shouts. She’s pulling at Nicole’s arm with each word, lifting her slightly off the ground and dropping her back down again. “That was so cool!”

Nicole tugs her arm out of Waverly’s grasp, holding it against her body for a minute. She pushes up onto her elbows, her hair in her face. “Wynonna," she groans. Her jeans are covered in dirt. Her shirt is covered in dirt. Her jean jacket has a tear in the shoulder. She picks a leaf out of her hair and growls softly at it.

“Oh, man,” Wynonna sighs. She unzips one of the larger pockets on the fishing vest and pulls out a plastic bag with a squished sandwich. “My turkey and cheese.”

Nicole smacks the turkey sandwich out of Wynonna’s hand. “I’m gonna kill you.” She drops back down onto her back. 

“I was looking forward to that sandwich.”

“Oh,” Waverly says. “I packed extra sandwiches.” She drops her backpack to the ground and opens the biggest pouch “I have three fluffernutter, but those are Nicole’s. And then I made bologna and cheese, if you want.”

Wynonna sits up. “I want a fluffernutter.”

“They’re Nicole’s,” Waverly says firmly. “You can have bologna.” She holds out one of the wrapped sandwiches.

Wynonna scowls for a minute before taking the sandwich. She packs the turkey and cheese back into her vest pocket though, patting it gently and shrugging when Waverly shakes her head. “It’s squished, but it still tastes the same.”

Nicole stands up. She shakes out her arms and flexes her hands and suddenly realizes that she’s not holding her Hitachi. She spins in a circle, looking around desperately. “My boombox. My boombox. Where is it?” Panic builds in her chest when no one answers her and she can’t see it. “ _ Where is it? _ ”

“Right here, you noob,” Wynonna says, pointing at the machine with her foot. 

It’s laying in the dirt, speakers up, a few feet away. Nicole almost knocks Wynonna back down as she scoops it off the ground, brushing off the dirt. She takes a deep, shaky breath before she presses play. The fear in her chest ebbs away slowly when The Cars come back on easily, their sound as smooth as usual.

She rounds on Wynonna. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Wynonna shrugs, looking away through the woods towards where the lake is. “I couldn’t let you dweebs die out here. Curtis would be mad.”

Waverly hands Nicole a sandwich. “We can take a break now,” she decides. “One sandwich and then we need to keep going before it gets dark.”

Wynonna scoffs. “It’s not going to get dark soon. School just ended.”

“Leave her alone,” Nicole says. Her shoulder aches where Wynonna collided with her.

Wynonna’s eyes flash for a second. “Yeah, well, whatever.” She takes a big bite of her bologna sandwich, chewing it noisily. “Why’re you in the middle of the woods anyway? I went all the way around the lake before I heard your crappy music over here.”

“We’re on an  _ adventure _ ,” Waverly says, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s not an adventure to walk around a lake. We need to climb trees and-and fight dragons and meet  _ mermaids _ !”

Nicole swallows a bite of her sandwich. Wynonna frowns. A bird chirps above them. Ric Ocasek sings about his best friend’s girlfriend.

“Have you fought any dragons yet?” Wynonna finally asks.

Nicole kicks a rock in Wynonna’s direction. “The only thing I’ve fought is you.”

“If we just walked around the lake, it wouldn’t be an adventure. It would be a  _ walk _ ,” Waverly continues. Her forehead is wrinkled, her mouth turned down in a frown. Nicole knows she’s going to cross her arms over her chest in a second, and tell Wynonna she’s being mean again.

“Walking around the lake seems easier,” Wynonna points out.

Waverly crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re being mean.”

Wynonna sighs. “No, I’m not. I’m  _ not _ ,” she says to Nicole. “I’m telling the truth.”

Nicole takes another bite of her sandwich instead of answering.

“Whatever,” Wynonna mutters. “I’m only here to make sure you two don’t fall down in a hole and get stuck there. So, are we going or what?” She pats the pockets of her vest and starts moving forward, deeper into the woods.

There’s a look in Wynonna’s eyes that tells Nicole she’s here for more than that; that she didn’t want to be left out. Her stomach flops a little uncomfortably. She should have noticed that. She definitely is going to let Wynonna pick the tape to listen to on the way back to The Patch later, to make up for it.

Nicole swallows the last bite of her sandwich and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Listen, we-”

Waverly steps close and reaches out to her, cutting her off. Her thumb brushes Nicole’s mouth. “You have crumbs,” she says.

Nicole blinks a few times, Waverly’s fingertips hot against her skin. “Oh. Okay.”

“Let’s go, losers,” Wynonna says, already ahead of them.

Nicole startles and picks up Waverly’s backpack and hoists it onto her shoulders, handing Waverly her Hitachi. “Treat it nicely,” she says firmly, thinking about the way Waverly treated her bicycle.

Waverly nods firmly and holds the boombox close to her chest, running a finger over the dials. They catch up to Wynonna just as the song changes.

“ _ I don’t mind you coming here _ ,” Waverly sings, jumping up and down excitedly. Nicole knows she likes this song. “ _ And wastin’ all my time. ‘Cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind _ .”

“ _ Mind _ ,” Wynonna echoes. She looks back and grins.

“ _ It's not the perfume that you wear. It's not the ribbons in your hair. And I don't mind you comin' here, and wastin' all my time _ ,” Nicole sings. 

“ _ I don't mind you hangin' out, _ ” Wynonna takes over. “ _ And talkin' in your sleep _ .” She turns and points at Nicole. “ _ You _ talk in your sleep.”

“No, I-”

“You do,” Waverly agrees.

“I-” Nicole tries.

“ _ It doesn't matter where you've been _ ,” Wynonna sings over her. “ _ As long as it was deep, yeah _ .”

Nicole scowls, but takes over, reaching back to help Waverly over a root. “ _ You always knew to wear it well, and you look so fancy I can tell _ ,” she sings, looking at Waverly’s bedazzled jacket. Waverly’s hand stays laced with her own. “ _ I don't mind you hangin' out, and talkin' in your sleep _ .”

“ _ I guess, you're just what I needed _ ,” Wynonna and Nicole sing. 

“ _ Just what I needed _ ,” Waverly echoes.

_ “I needed someone to feed _ .”

“ _ I guess, you're just what I needed. _ ”

“ _ Just what I needed _ ,” Waverly echoes again.

“ _ I needed someone to bleed _ ,” Wynonna and Nicole finish together.

Waverly’s hand twitches in Nicole’s and Nicole lets go, her hand burning. Waverly smile softly and skips ahead, catching up to Wynonna and elbowing her. 

“ _ I don’t mind you comin’ here _ ,” Nicole breathes out, watching Waverly smile widely at Wynonna. “ _ And wastin’ all my time _ .” Waverly turns and looks back at Nicole, and Nicole’s stomach twists in a way it never has before. “ _ ‘Cause when you’re standin’ oh so near, I kinda lose my mind _ .”

“ _ Mind _ !” Wynonna shouts. 

Nicole opens her mouth to sing the next part, but Waverly stops the tape unexpectedly. She turns. “We’re looking for buried treasure.”

“Duh,” Wynonna breathes out as Nicole catches up to them.

“But we’re not… pirate-y enough.” Waverly looks around, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “We need to be more like pirates.”

“Like eye patches and peg legs?” Wynonna asks.

“I don’t have any eye patches,” Nicole says. “Unless you put some in this bag.” She takes the backpack off and sighs in relief as she rolls her shoulders. “What  _ is _ in this bag?”

Waverly shrugs. “Stuff. Curtis told me to make sure I had enough food and I didn’t know what to bring, so I just brought-”

“Canned hash?” Nicole asks, pulling out a can. She reaches back into the bag. “And corn? And green beans?”

“That’s not important,” Waverly says firmly. “What’s important is that we’re not doing our adventure right.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “How do we do an adventure ‘right,’ then?”

Waverly picks up a long tree branch on the ground, picking off the rest of the leaves before she hands it to Wynonna. “In  _ Swiss Family Robinson _ , they had sticks. We can have sticks.” She hands Nicole another one.

“Hi-ya!” Wynonna shouts, bringing her stick down hard against Nicole’s.

Nicole’s stick falls out of her hand. “Hey!” She picks it back up and swings it towards Wynonna.

Wynonna blocks the strike, taking a step back. Nicole moves forward, swinging at her again. Wynonna blocks the next hit, bringing Nicole’s stick to the ground. Nicole pulls it out from under the weight of Wynonna’s stick and waves it in the air a few times.

“Guys,” Waverly tries. “This isn’t what I meant.”

Wynonna runs at her. “ _ Ahh _ !”

Nicole spins out of the way and laughs, running ahead a few feet before she turns to face Wynonna. She sticks out her tongue. “Come and get me.”

“You’re  _ toast _ ,” Wynonna promises.

Nicole can barely hear Waverly’s soft sigh of defeat.

Wynonna rushes her, both hands on the stick she’s holding over her head. Nicole drops to one knee, blocking the swing just like she saw Luke Skywalker do in  _ Star Wars _ . She makes the lightsaber sound in her throat as she closes her eyes and rolls across the ground, bringing her stick up above her head. When she opens her eyes, Wynonna isn’t in front of her anymore.

“ _ Noob _ ,” Wynonna sings from behind her.

Nicole spins and runs in the opposite direction, hearing Wynonna’s feet hitting the ground hard behind her. 

“Guys!” Waverly shouts, pulling her backpack behind her as she tries to keep up.

They’re moving through the woods, jumping roots and rocks and sticks and stumps. Nicole takes a running jump off a fallen log, letting out a battle cry as she swings wildly in Wynonna’s direction. Wynonna ducks, landing on the ground and rolling over onto her back.

Nicole stabs her stick forward, stopping it just under Wynonna’s chin. “There,” she says, panting heavily.

“You won’t take me alive,” Wynonna promises. She grabs the end of Nicole’s stick and tugs it forward. 

Nicole’s arm pulls sharply and she falls, off-balance. She ends up on top of Wynonna, their sticks somewhere to the side. Wynonna laughs loudly in her ear, twisting under her to try and get her stick back. Nicole rolls first, reaching her stick with the tips of her fingers. She rolls back and jabs it lightly into Wynonna’s side.

“I win,” she says in between breaths.

Wynonna slaps her stick away. “It wasn’t a total knockout, though,” she says, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.

Waverly finally catches up to them. “You’re both-”

“Gus alert,” Wynonna mutters.

Waverly frowns, her hands on her hips. Nicole elbows Wynonna and sits up. She’s covered in dirt - it’s under her fingernails and in her hair and spread across the front of her t-shirt - but she ignores it, standing up and offering Wynonna a hand. 

“We’re here,” Wynonna says, pointing over Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole and Waverly turn. Wynonna is right; they ended up on the other side of the lake, right near the shore by the rocks. Waverly claps excitedly, rushing forward towards the water. Nicole picks up the backpack Waverly left behind and follows, dragging Wynonna by the vest. They push through the branches of the shrub and come out on the other side. The lake stretches out in front of them, the bright blue sky reflecting off the water.

“The treasure is right there,” Waverly breathes out. “Right in those rocks.” She takes the backpack from Nicole and opens it, pulling out her map. She unfolds a part of it Nicole didn’t see before. It’s a close up of the rocks. Curtis must have drawn and colored it in - the brown crayon is inside the lines this time. Nicole takes the map from Waverly and turns it, looking up at the rocks and back down at her map.

“So it’s in the middle of them?”

Waverly takes her map back and makes a face at Nicole. “That’s what Curtis said.”

Wynonna looks at the map, then the rocks, then the map. “So how’re you going to get to it? It’s not like we have a canoe.”

“We’re going to swim,” Waverly says slowly, like that was the plan all along.

Wynonna shakes her head. Nicole winces a little. She didn’t know what Waverly had planned for this part of their adventure, but she didn’t think it was swimming. She thought maybe Curtis had taught Waverly how to build a raft, or something. She  _ hoped _ .

“I knew this was stupid,” Wynonna grumbles. She crosses her arms over her chest, the vest bugling at her shoulders.

Waverly turns on her, poking her finger into Wynonna’s chest. “You didn’t  _ have _ to come. I was fine alone with Nicole.”

“She’s  _ my _ best friend,” Wynonna says, stepping forward.

Nicole slips between them. “Guys, come on. Maybe we can come back another day. Doesn’t Shorty have a canoe? Maybe Curtis can borrow it and row us out there,” she tries to compromise.

Waverly scowls. “ _ I’m _ going to get the treasure.  _ Now _ .” She turns and marches towards the water’s edge. She doesn’t look back as she starts to unlace her sneakers.

“This is-”

Nicole cuts Wynonna off. “Listen,” she says quietly. “I know you can’t swim. So you can sit on the shore and wait for us,  _ or _ you can hold onto me while I swim out there.”

Wynonna glares at her. “So you’re going out there.”

“I want to see the treasure,” Nicole says. She thinks about her dad, about calling him and telling him all about her day. She wants to be able to tell him that she did it, that she went out and got the treasure and how it makes her  _ special _ . 

“Nicole-”

Nicole shakes her head. “Come with me. I won’t let you drown, okay?” she promises. “You can hold onto me and we’ll swim out together.”

Wynonna looks at Waverly, folding her jacket carefully and laying it down on top of her shoes. She starts pulling off her socks, next. “Waverly doesn’t know I can’t swim.”

Nicole pulls back an inch, surprised. “She doesn’t?”

“ _ No _ ,” Wynonna hisses. “Every time we tried to learn, I just… did other stuff.”

“Oh,” Nicole breathes out. She looks over her shoulder at Waverly. Her socks are off and she’s pulling a hair tie out of her bag, tying her hair back. “I don’t think she cares.”

“She’s going to make fun of me for it.”

Nicole shakes her head rapidly. “No, she won’t,” she promises. “Now, come  _ on _ .”

Wynonna hesitates. 

“You know you want to find the treasure.”

Wynonna sighs and pushes past Nicole, their shoulders bumping. She smiles softly, taking the sting out of the small shove, and stops next to Waverly. Nicole rolls her eyes and steps up next to them, pulling off her jean jacket. She shoves it into Waverly’s backpack, and then unlaces her sneakers. Wynonna toes her own off, kicking them away from the water. By the time Nicole gets her socks off, Waverly and Wynonna are standing in ankle-deep water, waiting for her.

Nicole rolls her jeans up to her knees and wades out, stopping next to Wynonna. 

“It’s not that far,” Waverly says.

Nicole squints at the rocks and shrugs. “One chorus of ‘Sweet Emotion’, probably.”

Wynonna takes a small step backwards, towards the shore. Nicole reaches out and grabs her wrist, holding her steady. 

Waverly grins widely. “Ready?” She wades out a little further, the water rising up to her waist. She shivers and looks back. “It’s cold.”

Nicole tightens her grip on Wynonna’s wrist. “Come on,” she says gently, tugging her forward. Wynonna’s mouth opens like she’s going to protest, but Nicole cuts her off. “Just hold onto me.”

They get to waist-deep water and Nicole brings Wynonna’s arm up around her neck. She leans forward, kicking her legs out behind her. Wynonna’s grip tightens around her neck for a second before it loosens enough for Nicole to breathe. She swims slowly, a sloppy frog stroke. Her arms are doing all the work because her legs are tangled in Wynonna’s. 

Ahead of them, Waverly is singing Aerosmith, splashing her way to the rocks. 

It takes her two choruses of “Sweet Emotion” to get to rocks, Wynonna’s extra weight slowing her down. Wynonna lets go of her and grabs for the first rock she can reach, pulling herself up and out of the water. She reaches down and offers Nicole a hand.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she pants softly.

Wynonna gives her a shaky smile.

“This summer,” Nicole continues. “I’m going to teach you how to swim.”

Wynonna looks at Waverly, sitting on a rock nearby, and gives Nicole a small nod. “Okay,” she breathes out.

Waverly stands carefully on a rock, finding the flat edge with both feet. “It should be right there,” she says, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. 

The rock they’re on is part of the outer circle of rocks. They’re sharp and jagged, with small flat surfaces that barely fit Nicole’s bare feet. Once they get past those, there’s a small dirt mound and flatter rocks that surround it. They climb over the jagged parts and Nicole breathes a little easier when they reach flat ground. 

“So, where is it?” Wynonna asks.

Waverly shrugs. “Curtis said that ‘ _X marks the spot_ ,’ or something like that.”

Nicole points at the ground. “You mean that?”

They all turn to look at the large X made out of small rocks in the middle of the small patch of dirt.

“Now what?” Wynonna asks

“We need to dig, I guess,” Waverly says. She looks at Wynonna. “Will you-”

“Not a chance,” Wynonna says quickly. She elbows Nicole. “You do it.”

“But I-”

Waverly touches her elbow. “Please?”

“You already got dirt  _ everywhere _ and now you’re soaking wet, anyway. So it’s not like your precious white shirt can get  _ more _ ruined,” Wynonna points out.

Waverly winces, but pats Nicole on the arm.

Nicole sighs. “Fine.”

Wynonna moves all of the small rocks, tossing them back down into the water one at a time, laughing as they make loud plopping sounds.

Nicole fights a grimace and leans in, pulling at the dirt with her bare hands. She gets all of the top layer of dirt away easily, but the further she digs, the harder it is.

“I can’t do it.”

Waverly nods reassuringly. “Yes you can.”

Nicole sighs, but looks back down at the dirt hole and nods. She digs for another minute until her nails bump against something cold and hard. “Oh,” she breathes out. She looks up at Waverly and Wynonna, her eyes wide. “There’s something…”

Waverly drops to her knees next to Nicole. “Dig,” she commands.

Wynonna sits down next to her, digging into the dirt. “What is it?”

Nicole pauses, opening her mouth to tell Wynonna she doesn’t know, but Waverly smacks at her hands.

“ _ Dig _ ,” she says again. 

Nicole pulls at the dirt faster, throwing it in every direction. She ignores Wynonna’s shout of protest and puts all of her energy into digging. She gets another few handfuls out before she sees the rounded swell of something blue. She pushes her fingers into the packed dirt, trying to get a grip on whatever it is. She finally finds an edge to grab onto and she pulls, freeing the blue thing from the dirt.

“It’s a…  _ coffee can _ ?” Waverly asks, her voice high and confused.

Nicole sits back on her heels and frowns. “It’s a coffee can,” she says flatly.

Wynonna pulls it out of her hands, turning it over. “It’s a coffee can.”

Waverly takes it from Wynonna and sets it down in the middle of the three of them. “It’s  _ treasure _ .”

They sit and stare at the can, each of them holding their breath.

“Who is going to open it?” Waverly asks softly.

“You should,” Nicole breathes out. She looks up at Waverly. “It’s your adventure.”

Waverly looks at Wynonna, waiting for her to nod before she slowly reaches out and works her fingers under the plastic cover of the can. She peels the lid back slowly.

Nicole inhales sharply as Waverly drops the lid behind her. They lean forward, peering into the can.

“It’s…” Waverly starts.

“A note,” Wynonna finishes. “What the-”

“Language,” Nicole says quickly.  

“It’s just a note,” Wynonna repeats. She reaches into the can and pulls it out.

Nicole takes it from her, unfolding the note. She turns it over until it’s facing the right way and she reads it to herself, stumbling over a few words. She reads it a few more times until she thinks she has it right, and then she reads it out loud. “Dear Adventurers, you found the treasure! Congratulations. In case you didn’t know, the real prize is the time you spent together. Love, Curtis.” She frowns. “P.S. Bring this note to The Patch and all three of you will get your own milkshakes, with extra whip cream.”

Wynonna scowls and takes the note from her, reading it herself. “That’s it? That’s all we get.”

Waverly snatches the note from Wynonna. “We got an adventure, too.”

“I wanted  _ money _ ,” Wynonna pouts. “You said there was gold. And jewels.”

Waverly shrugs. “That’s what Curtis said.”

“Curtis  _ also _ said that the planet Neptune has rings, but no one can prove that, can they?” 

Nicole takes the note back from Waverly. “Guys, we can all get  _ our own _ milkshakes,” she breathes out, her voice filled with wonder. 

Wynonna takes the note again. “Wait, what?”

Nicole points at the postscript. “See? Right there. We all get  _ our own _ milkshakes.”

Wynonna thrusts the note at Waverly. “You carry this back.  _ Don’t _ let it get wet,” she instructs.  

“Woah,” Nicole says. “Now you’re okay with it  _ not _ being gold and jewels?”

Wynonna stares at Nicole, her eyes wide. “We each get our  _ own _ . Which means I can finally get a chocolate milkshake, because I don’t have to share with  _ you _ .”

“Chocolate milkshakes are gross,” Nicole whines. 

“Which is exactly why we are going to The Patch right now and getting our own milkshakes.” She scrambles over a rock and slides down to the outer circle, looking pointedly at Nicole. “Come  _ on _ , she hisses.

Nicole sighs and starts to climb down, but Waverly grabs her by the elbow, stopping her.

“Wait,” she breathes out. She watches Wynonna carefully creep down the rockface. “Thank you.”

Nicole smiles crookedly. “For what?”

“For coming on an adventure with me.”

Nicole reaches up and tucks a strand of wet hair behind Waverly’s ear. She flushes and tries to push her hand into her pocket, but the denim is so wet that she can’t. She waves it between them instead. “I like going on adventures with you.”

“Do you think we’ll go on adventures together for a long time?” Waverly’s voice is so soft, Nicole has to lean forward to hear it. “I mean, even if you’re having adventures with other people.”

Nicole nods quickly. “I told you, you and Wynonna are my favorite people. Sometimes Nathan, I guess.”

Waverly smiles widely. “Good. You’re my favorite, too. Sometimes Wynonna, I guess.”

“Come  _ on _ , losers,” Wynonna shouts. “I want my milkshake.”

Waverly sighs and starts climbing down the rocks. “I’ll get strawberry and-”

“I’ll get vanilla and we can share,” Nicole finishes.

“Think it’ll take a long time to get back to our bikes?”

Nicole shrugs. “Probably all of ‘Just What I Needed.’ But only if we go  _ around _ the lake, and not back through the woods.”

Waverly grins. “ _ I don’t mind you comin’ here _ ,” she sings.

“You’re wasting my time!” Wynonna shouts.


End file.
